beginning at forty

This terrarium is called Night Walk with Mishima.  It has come to this.  Working earth in smaller quantities.  Taking things, perhaps, one pair of morning and night at a time.  The day she turned forty, she had a photo of herself among her terraria.  Face hidden by shadow, dancer's feet poised ready to dance in sunlight.  I am happy she is beginning to be happy.  How it was not so long ago when we met outside the hundreds-year-old wall and she was all in white.  Then, there was nothing else to offer for comfort--not even words--except the blunt presence of a listening warm body for which she could beat her grief on.  The words fled her, the writing, the poetry.  And yet, the art soul survived: in her home-made, hand-beaten memories-in-ice creams that she poured herself into.  This lady is cold, she said.  It has been awhile before it has come to this.  Finally growing gardens in smaller quantities as new beginnings.